I know you have these dusty old pieces of paper
That drives you to try and rape a women
To shame her
For making a choice
About her own body
But here’s a thought
That woman who you want to
Pressure
Fine
Jail
Or punish
For making a choice
About her own life
As the thoughts dance
Through your brain
Your eyes
Your choices
About getting your way
With other peoples lives
Other peoples bodies
Picture that probe
That law
That bomb planted at a clinic
Putting your wife
Your sister
Your daughter
Your mother
Into that chair
That situation
That casket.
(c)Brian C. Williams
System * Publishing
(c)Brian C. Williams
System * Publishing
